


You Only Thought You Could Escape

by nephthyslaments



Series: The February 28th Universe [3]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-13
Updated: 2019-01-13
Packaged: 2019-10-09 03:08:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17398862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nephthyslaments/pseuds/nephthyslaments
Summary: Because I shouldn't read any comments left by Lainie...You're still a horrible person ;)





	You Only Thought You Could Escape

**Author's Note:**

> This is completely beta'd by me so any mistakes are solely my own. PS - no Star Wars fans were hurt during the making of this episode.

She was right.  Absolutely, unequivocally, and irrefutably right.  Throw a little bit of correct in there with the right and she now stood at the pinnacle of all knowing.

_Hawaii was every fantasy come true and she could not have made a better choice when planning her escape._

Now this begs the question, why did sensei feel the overpowering desire to ~~flee Japan~~ take such a sudden and spontaneous vacation all on her own?

Four simple words.  Finder and her characters.

In a nutshell, they had ALL decided to evacuate the reservation as a group and were currently letting their collective freak flags fly high back in Tokyo.  At that point, she had felt an immediate and urgent need to get as far as possible from their particular brand of crazy.

Now she was relaxing on the private beach of the Montage Kapalua Bay resort hotel on Maui soaking up the sun while enjoying the peace and quiet.  As such, the benefits of not having a highly scheduled and regulated day allowed her to make the choice each morning _‘To do something or not?  That is the question….’_ and with that thought in mind, sensei decided that she would visit a local watering hole on the island she had overheard other guests talking about.  What ultimately made her final decision was the gossip that _The Barbra Streisand(!)_ was appearing on stage each night, covering a collection of her most popular hits from the last 40 or more years.

_‘She was actually on the same plane as me when I left Japan!  Just a few rows ahead and an aisle over from my seat too.’_

Decision made, sensei relaxed back on her recliner, determined to wring every bit of sunshine out of the rest of her day.

_(Better enjoy it while you can sensei!)_

**_Tokyo, Japan – Current home of the new tribe known as Finder_ **

Jeff Probst, the actual host of Survivor, finally showed up at the front door of the penthouse late one afternoon, sans actual bonfire but with a suspicious amount of firewood stacked next to him.  Apparently a delegation of building residents had hired him to throw ALL of them off the “island”.  They were given 12 hours to pack what they could and head somewhere else until they had to go back to work ( _come on February 28 th!_), no one cared where or how far away.

Thus Asami, Akihito, and their seven freaks, er, dwarves, um, entourage found themselves at Tokyo International Airport boarding Asami’s personal jet.

“Hawaii, Jeeves.” Asami instructed the pilot in lofty tones and with an imperious wave of the hand.  “Specifically Maui and the Montage Kapalua Bay resort.”

Asami (or rather Kirishima, to be honest) had booked two of the four-bedroom premier ocean view penthouses for everyone’s use during their time at the resort.  This would ensure that each person had their own bedroom and when necessary (read unavoidable) they could congregate in the common areas.  Also, on the plus side he wouldn’t have to listen to Akihito bitch and whine anymore about laundry, dishes, food, and most especially the smell of nine(!) men living and sharing the same space as they had private room service for each penthouse.

The following days were spent perusing and enjoying the various amenities and options offered by the resort.  The mass consensus of tribe Finder seemed to center around the private beach with lots of sun and water sports involved as forms of relaxation.  On the plus side, there didn’t seem to be many other guests with the same idea, as most of them were actually there for vacation not exile, and exploring everything Maui and the other islands had to offer.  On the negative, a few problems with appropriate water related attire were fought over and eventually resolved when the threat of swimming with Hawaiian fishes in a Hawaiian bay in concrete shoes was the final option given.

Beach umbrellas, towels, and lounge chairs were grouped together on the pristine sands along with attentive servers waiting to fulfill any requests from their crazy Japanese guests.  Asami had changed from his new “executive” look of indecently tight black boxer briefs with performance enhancements, whatever the fuck that still was, into the aquatic version of said attire. 

 _‘How on god’s green earth did I not realize that Hanes had dipped toes into the swimwear segment?’_ was Akihito’s immediate thought when he first saw said ‘swim shorts’.  _‘Well, at least it isn’t in a butterfly print like the goddamn self-cloning tie.’_

Fei Long had discovered the US Marine Corps camouflage swimwear line by Armani which he had proudly paired with the optional yet highly recommended, sand colored body glitter.  This was all well and good but combined with the standard issue black lace up boots, he really did stick out like the proverbial sore thumb while trying to hone his desert environment techniques.  Should have splurged the extra money for the proper sand/glitter colored version, also by Armani, or just got a pair of flipflops from the resort boutique.

Suoh had to go with the maternity version of the muumuu in a tasteful butterfly print that looked suspiciously like the aforementioned tie two paragraphs above.  Hanes nor Armani didn’t make anything large enough to adequately cover the 1st runner up of the Tokyo World Championship Hot Dog eating contest who was _still_ lagging behind in Twinkies and tacos (but not through lack of effort or encouragement from his “roommates”).  The original set of octuplets he looked to be carrying had now become one set of octuplets and a set of quadruplets.

Last but not least were Kirishima, Yoh, Mikhail, Sudou, and Sakazaki.

These morons had elected to take fashion tips from Borat himself.  All currently sported the sling swimsuit or “mankini” in varying vomit inducing neon colors.  At least there was some little, _very little_ , bit of coverage for the front half, not so much the back.

“I have **_got_** to get Mik a spa appointment and get his ass cheeks waxed!  Hell, just rip all the hair off his body and be done with that shitshow!” Akihito muttered to himself after catching sight of Mik randomly ‘voguing’ on the beach for the umpteenth time that day.  “Guess I better be grateful that they don’t make crotchless mankini’s…” as he spied Sudoh sashaying up to where Mik currently struck a pose.  “But the spangled nipple pasties are bit much though.”

Sakazaki still wore his woman’s girdle but now without the painted 8 pack abs and extra glued on hair because a disastrous trip into the ocean waters had washed all of the makeup and art department’s hard work away.  Now he just looked a third cousin twice removed on the aunt’s mothers’ side of Borat by way of Japan.  In a woman’s girdle - courtesy of Spanx.  Akihito simply shook his head in defeat before coming to the final two members of their party.

Who knew Kirishima was such a competitive prick?  After realizing how proficient Yoh had become in the non-Olympic sport of manspreading, he had taken it upon himself to out-manspread and out-meditate Yoh.  They were both currently seated upon the hot, as in fry an egg(s) hot - pun intended thank you very much, sands of the resort beach, trying to lock their legs around their necks, because that is the next illogical step in manspreading, all the while not just becoming one with the universe but completely taking it over and rearranging it to suit their individual needs (sorry Dr’s Neil DeGrasse Tyson and Michio Kaku).

By this point, Akihito, who had thankfully kept his tasteful pair of swim trunks from the Bali trip, seemed to be the only member of this crazy train who had managed to cling onto his own sanity with a near unbreakable death grip.  Enough was Enough, he decided.  ‘By god, tonight, we are ALL going to do something NORMAL and so help me god, if ANY ONE of THESE fuckheads gets in my way, I will take the plane, fly back to Japan and they can all KISS MY LILY WHITE ASS!’  Decision made, he set about planning an evening at a local watering hole he had overheard other guests talk about where the incomparable _Barbra Streisand(!)_ was currently performing.

Meanwhile, about fifty yards down the beach, another resort guest who was relaxing on her lounge chair and catching some rays, lowered her Jackie O style sunglasses while squinting with deep suspicion at a most singular group of whackos’ parading up and down the sand in blinding shades of neon almost nothing, and wondering at the management standards of this particular resort….

**_A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away… sorry, I meant some dive bar somewhere on Maui_ **

Several tables had been pushed together to accommodate the group of Japanese tourists who had come out to enjoy the ambiance and refreshments of the local establishment.  By some miracle of all the known religious deities combined, each one had actually deigned to wear what was considered by most law-abiding countries, some semblance of tasteful attire.  Akihito was mostly grateful that an evening spent in the local lock up did not seem to be on the horizon with charges of public indecency as the deciding factor.  It had been a fight though, and one he had only won by the grudging and reluctant support of Asami, who felt that his previous decision regarding “executive attire” should be entirely acceptable even in another country halfway around the world.  They were all currently chatting quietly amongst themselves, sipping on a variety of beverages while waiting for the evening’s entertainment to begin.

The lights had lowered on the stage and music began when the stage curtain was pushed aside and who should step out from behind but _The Barbra Streisand!_   Her rich and mature notes floated over the wildly cheering crowd which finally quieted down and gave their full attention to the legendary songstress before them.  Her set continued song after song but a little voice nagged at the back of Akihito’s brain – there was something that was just that little bit _off_.  The more he paid attention, the more he noticed that her height was wrong – by about 6 inches.  Couldn’t blame that on the Loubitin platforms.  She seemed far younger than her purported late 70’s age.  Her shoulders looked broader and her chest deeper and was that an Adam’s apple he was seeing?!?  The final bit of convincing came when he truly looked at her nose and realized that it WAS NOT the famous “beak” she was known for.  _‘Oh my fucking god, that was a man!?!’_  Akihito immediately went up in flames at the realization.  Asami, having noticed the mental gyrations Akihito was going through the entire time, leaned over and whispered huskily into his ear “Kuroda does a wonderful Streisand impersonation doesn’t he?”

Akihito shot to his feet and in the middle of the bar screamed “Kuroda Shinji?!?!” at the top of his lungs before turning white as rice (snicker) and promptly fainted dead away.

Laughter began in a darkened booth at the back wall of the venue, growing progressively louder and more unrestrained.  Yamane Ayano grabbed for the cell phone in her evening bag and immediately dialed her editor.  “Editor-san,” she finally managed to gasp out between the hiccupping coughs, frenzied laughter, and the tears pouring down her face, “I need you to check me into Tokyo Metropolitan Matsuzawa Hospital immediately.  I’ll be back in Japan first thing tomorrow morning.  Why you ask?  Because it seems the loony bin is the _ONLY_ place I can escape from **_ALL OF_ _THEM_** and get any peace and quiet until February 28th!”

**Author's Note:**

> My lovely Anon - you're my inspiration. I never would have took the chance if you hadn't taken the chance on me. Thank you!


End file.
